


All A Wolf Wants to Sniff for Christmas

by wolfiefics



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Secret Santa Gift Exchange, Snupin Santa Exchange fic, perfumes, set during PoA but not PoA compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 05:50:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20237791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: Once again the season of torment has come to Hogwarts and Dumbledore’s inevitable torture of his staff begins.  A secret gift exchange is instigated, to everyone’s horror, and our favorite characters to torment must deal with their recepients.  The real question is, however, what was the REAL reason Remus Lupin wasn’t at the Christmas feast table in PoA?





	All A Wolf Wants to Sniff for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Snupin Santa gift exchange, but I can't remember what year. It was for Oiowin. For some reason, most of my Santa gift exchanges involved the dreaded Secret Santas, mainly because Dumbledore is a masochist.

“He wants a what?” exclaimed Remus, blinking stupidly at Professor Minerva McGonagall. 

“A gift exchange among the teachers.” Minerva looked as if she’d eaten a whole bushel of lemons. “Privately, of course, and …” She took a deep breath. “He called it Secret Santa.”

“Oh no, not that.” Remus backed away, horrified. He bumped into someone behind him. It was time for the bi-weekly staff meeting so the staffroom was filling up. “Beg pardon.” He turned to apologize to the person he’d bumped into only to freeze when he noted it was Severus Snape. Although current Head of Slytherin House, Potions Master, and resident curmudgeon, Severus and Remus had once been part of a little inner war between their respective houses as students many years ago. A bit of that animosity still simmered in Severus.

And from the looks of things, Remus sighed to himself, it wasn’t going to get better. He’d inadvertently bumped Severus’ coffee, spilling the steaming hot liquid all down the front of Severus’ austere black suit. From the wide-eyed, slightly pained expression on Severus’ face, Remus may have found a way to escape Albus Dumbledore’s latest attempt to make his staff all get along.

“You,” Severus snarled, his black eyes flashing dangerously, “are a complete and utter moron, Lupin!” He looked around for someplace to place the now empty mug but found nothing. Remus silently held his hand out and Severus slammed the crockery into it. “Is there anything you can do without causing some sort of damage to me?”

“I only spilled your coffee, Severus. It’s easily remedied with a couple of spells and a new brew.” Remus watched as Severus performed a neat swish of his wand, removing the coffee and its accompanying stain. As he did so Remus caught a whiff of a scent that tickled his senses. He thought about moving closer for a better sniff but then decided he wasn’t one to look for death wishes.

“You seem fond of damaging my pride as well,” snapped Snape, snatching the mug back from Remus and glowering at him.

“I wondered when you’d mention the boggart.” Remus rocked back on his heels, intending to spring away should Severus take a swing at him, as he looked likely to do. 

Snape, however, managed to gain control of his temper long enough to sneer, “At least you didn’t have Longbottom envision me as a can-can girl.”

Remus shuddered. “I didn’t think the class could handle the trauma.”

“Trauma,” inquired Minerva with mocking sweetness aimed at Severus, who glowered at her, “or drama? Severus is fond of causing both.”

“I love you too, Minerva,” growled Severus. Though the tone was his usual snark, it had an undercurrent of respect.

“Mmm,” was all Minerva would say but she winked at Remus. Severus sneered at them both as he passed to grab a squashy chair and once more Remus got a waft of the intriguing smell emanating from the Potions Master.

Once the staff had assembled and Dumbledore bustled in, the room fell silent. Severus, Remus noted, was calmly sipping a new mug of coffee and perusing a magazine of which title Remus couldn’t make out. Severus neither looked up nor acknowledged Dumbledore’s existence as the elder wizard began to speak.

“I have the usual comments, compliments and warnings,” began Dumbledore and the staff sunk into a mild stupor as the list went on and on. For a man renowned for his intellect and speaking ability, Dumbledore could put his staff to sleep faster than Professor Binns could his History of Magic classes.

Remus took refuge in mentally reviewing questions to ask on his next NEWT class exam and wondering whether or not he should get Minerva for Christmas a new scarf of her family tartan or the teapot in the shape of a cat that meowed as the tea was poured. Was he allowed to get gifts for students? 

“And finally, my last announcement.”

Remus jolted out his self-imposed trance. He noticed the rest of the staff had as well, except for Severus, who was now halfway through his magazine and probably low on coffee. Remus and Minerva exchanged grim expressions as Dumbledore’s watery blue eyes became impossibly bright and obnoxiously cheerful. 

“I have decided that for this holiday season, we will have a gift exchange among the staff. The Sorting Hat has kindly obliged to alter his, er, programming and select a staff member for you when you place him on your head.” 

Dumbledore held up the tattered, grumpy looking hat who said, “Christmas time has come at last, so buy a gift that’s got some class.”

Remus gave a little laugh of amused horror, which was echoed by a couple of others. He caught a glimpse of Severus, who was no longer reading his magazine and looking at Dumbledore as if he were a particularly disgusting piece of boomslang skin that had gone bad and wound up in a potion.

“You will all come to the side room off the Great Hall between 4 and 8 this evening, trying on the hat and receiving your assigned recipient. The hat will tell me if there was anyone who did not come.” Dumbledore’s gaze hardened behind the cheerful façade, as if giving warning to what dire consequences would be faced if someone didn’t show up. “Any further questions?” The staff, Remus guessed correctly, was too stunned to say anything. “Very well. See everyone at dinner.” 

Dumbledore strode from the room, the Sorting Hat tucked under an arm, humming “Here We Come a-Wassailing”. After a few stunned moments in which everyone stared at everyone else, there was a mad rush for the door. Perhaps, Remus thought dazedly, they thought the atmosphere had done something to Dumbledore’s brain and didn’t want to catch the contagion.

It was something to give serious contemplation too.

When the room cleared all that was left was Minerva, Remus, Flitwick and Severus, who was still staring in horror at the spot Dumbledore had been standing only moments earlier. The other three professors waited for Severus to come to his senses. 

“Is the man _insane_?” Severus exclaimed, leaping to his feet, magazine dumping unnoticed from his lap to the floor.

Minerva raised an eyebrow at the histrionic Potions Master. “It is entirely possible, but he still signs our paychecks, Severus, so you might as well make the most of it.”

Severus glared at her and then at Remus for good measure. “If I hex him to death and you take over the Headmastership, Minerva, will you _promise_ not to be so determined to make everyone ‘get along’?” 

Minerva considered it for a whole twenty seconds and then replied, just to irk the Slytherin, “No.”

Severus growled something Remus was glad no one else heard and stormed from the room. The other three, now amused at Snape’s expense, followed.

* * *

Remus waited until five minutes to eight to fulfill his obligation, only to find himself in line. He gave Minerva and Severus a sheepish look as he took his place behind them. The side door opened and Rubeus Hagrid trumped out, beaming. Remus fervently hoped his name had not been given to Hagrid. He liked Hagrid, having fond remembrances of him as a school boy, but the thought of Hagrid’s gift was enough to inspire abject terror in the heart of a sane man.

Minerva stepped in and closed the door. Severus, next in line and in front of Remus, folded his arms and donned a mutinous expression. “How many gifts are we to buy?” Severus groused, almost to himself.

“You didn’t get the rest of the instructions?” Remus asked, pulling his own copy out of his pocket. 

Severus scowled at the offending parchment. “Yes, I just haven’t read it,” he admitted.

“Only one, priced between 10 and 50 galleons.”

“That’s somewhat acceptable,” Snape acknowledged, “but still pricey.”

Remus inhaled, taking a noseful of Severus’ unique scent, an odd hint of amber beneath various potions ingredients. That was what he’d smelled earlier, amber. He’d been fighting an attraction for the man for the past two months, once Severus had vented his spleen regarding his opinion of Remus and Remus put Severus in his place with a well-placed kick in the pants as he stalked away in a snit. Despite his appalling temper, Severus wasn’t all that unattractive. Remus fancied that if Severus stopped scowling, he’d actually be rather personable. However, he’d never noticed Severus smelling so intriguing before.

Minerva left the room, a speculative expression on her face. She nodded distractedly at the last two remaining professors and strolled away. Obviously her selection had not been mind-straining, Remus thought.

“You first, Lupin,” Severus grumbled.

“You’re in front of me,” Remus told him hurriedly. Severus sent him a scathing look that spoke volumes of his opinion of Remus’ ‘bravery’. With the air of a man walking to the guillotine, Severus marched to the door, opened it, stepped through and shut it.

Half a minute later Remus heard a typical Severus-like roar. “Are you out of you ever-loving, cotton-tattered mind?” Had Severus gotten Hagrid? Or, Remus tamped down a hysterical giggle, the Divinations professor, Sybil Trelawney?

Severus exited the room, his tread desultory and his expression like that of a man condemned to the most excruciating of deaths. “That hat is damaged,” he announced in dead tones and then trudged away. Remus almost felt sorry for him.

Left alone and with one minute to eight, Remus hurried into the room himself. There on its usual stool was the Sorting Hat, the tear that formed its mouth looking pinched. “I, er, hello?”

“Get it over with already, Lupin. I haven’t got all night and neither do you,” snapped the hat with a distinct lack of rhyme.

“Er, right,” agreed Remus. He picked up the hat, sat on the stool (feeling distinctly foolish), and set the hat on his head. It actually fit quite snugly, which it had not done the last time he’d tried it on.

“Remus John Lupin, Gryffindor werewolf, still possessed of much hair,” began the hat.

“What?” Remus snorted a laugh.

“Shut up, you know how hard it is to come up with rhymes for everyone’s name and their match on the spur of the moment?” snarled the hat and Remus sat up straighter at the tone.

“Sorry.”

“Humph,” returned the hat. “Remus John Lupin, Gryffindor werewolf, still possessed of much hair. Beware of tealeaves and spangles…ah to heck with it. You’ve gotten Trelawney. Good luck, you’re going to need it.”

Remus felt the bottom of his stomach fall with a crunch. “Oh Gods, anyone but her.”

“You should have come earlier,” noted the hat without an ounce of remorse. “I would have given you someone else for the right bribe.”

With a heartfelt groan, Remus slumped on the stool just as the door opened to reveal Albus Dumbledore. Remus suppressed the urge to leap on the older wizard and take vengeance for the travesty unleashed upon him.

“Are you the last of them, Remus?” asked Dumbledore with a beaming smile. Remus nodded desultorily. “Excellent!” Dumbledore removed the hat from Remus' head and whisked away the stool before Remus barely got off of it. The sadist practically skipped out of the room, leaving Remus shell-shocked and alone. 

Now he knew how Severus felt.

* * *

The gifts were to be delivered no earlier than Christmas Eve morning and no later the Christmas evening. Remus spent two weeks desperately trying to figure out what to get Trelawney that didn’t seem too impersonal but not encouraging either. She’d already shown a disturbing desire to tell him his future, usually hanging on him like he was her last hope for a good lay. He didn’t have the nerve to tell her she didn’t appeal to him even remotely.

However, aware of Severus as he was now, that certain Potions Master was interesting Remus more and more. Just two night previous, in fact, he’d surreptitiously sniffed as he passed behind Severus’ chair to catch a whiff of an amber-smelling Severus, only to catch a whiff of bergamot-scented Severus instead. The smell went right to his head, making him goofy for a good five minutes. 

As Christmas approached, so did the full moon, making Remus’ senses sharper and what he smelled and heard more defined. His rooms were down the hall from Severus’ and he swore last night he heard Severus masturbating and calling his, Remus’, name.

Remus didn’t sleep well at all last night.

“Lupin,” purred a voice Remus had just been thinking about. Remus turned around and came nose to prominent nose with Severus, black eyes fathomless in the bright light of hundreds of candles.

“The instructions don’t say. Are we supposed to deliver our gifts in person or by other means?” Severus leaned in a bit and Remus caught a whiff of something vaguely like blackberries. He felt Severus’ hand brush against his back as the other man leaned over the chair.

Remus’ mouth went dry. Was Severus _flirting_ with him? Remus wondered, the smell going to his head.

“I, er,” Remus stammered, desperately trying to marshal his thoughts and failing miserably. Blackberries and cinnamon. Severus smelled of blackberries and cinnamon. “I, uh, I believe however we want will suffice, Severus,” Remus managed to get out, sounding half-strangled.

“Take a drink of water, Lupin,” Severus told him calmly, passing a water goblet to him. “You sound hoarse. Screaming at students now too?”

“Oh no, just a frog in my throat,” Remus said with a weak smile. “Ribbit.” Severus raised an eyebrow at the pathetic joke and moved away, leaving Remus deficient of the smell blackberry and cinnamon scented Slytherin.

The next morning was Christmas Eve. Except for a few students and the staff, plus the normal residents of the castle, the school was blessedly peaceful and quiet. Remus squirmed as he attempted to wrap his gift to Trelawney, wondering if he should hand deliver it like the sainted martyr Gryffindors were supposed to be, or take the coward’s way out and strap it to an owl.

He chose the owl. 

The school barn owl was not amused to be sent up to the Divinations tower where Sybil Trelawney held court amongst her baubles, fluttery scarves and smoky atmosphere. It was even less amused considering the package it carried weighed more than it did.

For a laugh, Remus had gotten Trelawney a year’s subscription to a silly newspaper called The Quibbler and a new shiny pewter stand for her crystal ball. Price tag: 15 galleons. He was rather pleased with himself and hoped that he would continue to escape her attentions, even with the gift.

With trepidation he now turned his attention to the next two days and what gift he would be receiving from his own mysterious benefactor. Next to his plate was a small package with a card attached to it. Warily Remus opened the card and then smiled at the tasteful winter scene and the scrawling message in a familiar, crimped hand.

_Lupin-_

_Find enclosed your Christmas gift. It is actually a two-part gift, the rest you will receive tonight at your convenience. I have been experimenting with fragrances of late and discovered that several of my inventions have peaked your interest. The vials are labeled with each scent and you may use them as you see fit._

_I await your decision on when to receive your second gift._

_Yrs,  
S. Snape_

Remus looked over to where Severus was calmly cutting into a thick slice of ham. The Potions Master’s black eyes met his for a moment. Severus took a bite of ham, slowly, almost seductively. Remus blinked, held up his gift and smiled his thanks. Severus raised an eyebrow and nodded his understanding.

“What is it, Remus?” asked Dumbledore, leaning passed Minerva for a peek.

“Specially blended fragrances from Severus, Headmaster,” Remus told him. 

“Incense?” asked Minerva with interest.

“No, more like…essential oils or perfume, I suppose,” admitted Remus. “I haven’t asked him specifically what they are for. Whatever I want, I guess.”

The two older professors sniffed until they overloaded their own, less keen senses, marveling over Severus’ cleverness in the gift. Severus acknowledged the praise as his due, which Remus had to admit was deserved.

The two of them rose at the same time and exited the Great Hall together. “Meet before the Feast?” asked Remus. “My quarters?” Severus nodded briskly and headed down to his dungeon offices while Remus wandered around to look at the castle decorations at his leisure.

He’d rarely stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays as a student so he’d missed much of the decorations added after the students had long gone. He grinned as he noted the sprig of mistletoe someone jokingly placed above Argus Filch’s office. The crotchety Squib caretaker and handyman of Hogwarts could oft times give Severus a run for his money in the art of curmudgeonness. Kissing him under the mistletoe was not something Remus would wish on anyone, except maybe Filch’s cat, a foul beast he called Mrs. Norris.

Remus found his way into the library, where he picked up a copy of A Christmas Carol, reading his favorite parts to while away the time. He marveled at the brilliance of Charles Dickens’ writing, the contrast of the world presented by the author both before and after Scrooge’s transformation. 

He roused himself from his comfortable chair at around four o’clock and went to his quarters. He took a quick shower and dressed in his nicest yet most comfortable clothes. Just as he was finger combing his slightly damp hair there was a brisk knock at his door.

‘Well, five o’clock is right before dinner at six,’ Remus thought to himself. He admitted to a powerful curiosity as to what other gift Severus had for him that he preferred presenting in private.

“Hello, Sev-“ Remus’ mouth dropped open as Severus shoved his way in.

“I cannot believe I made it all the way upstairs in this and no one noticed me.” Severus looked both aghast and pleased with himself.

“What are you _wearing_?” Remus asked, circling the slightly taller man in shock. 

“Your new robes,” Severus told him smugly. He pulled a tiny bundle from the pocket of the rich burgundy robes and enlarged it to reveal a set of his own clothes. “Not too expensive but still tasteful and nice.”

“I, well,” mused Remus. “Very nice indeed, but why are _you_ wearing them?”

Severus smirked and opened the robes to reveal he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. “It’s a good thing I’m a trained scientific observer. You’ve been lusting after me for a couple of months now, correct?”

“Uh.” Remus brain had imploded and processing his tangled thoughts into motored speech was no longer possible.

Severus was _gorgeous_. Long alabaster legs, a tight abdomen, firm pectorals and sinewy arms had been hidden all this time by long flowing black robes with a high button collar. A collar that had also hidden a delectably lickable neck.

Remus moved his amber eyes to meet Severus’ laconic pitch black ones. Severus smirked. “I believe you have no objection to a naked sex slave sucking you off before dinner?”

If Remus brain was having issues with translating pulses, it now fizzled like a broken circuit board. Instinct took over and he dove for the sexy Potions god standing arrogantly in front of him.

They locked in a kiss as Severus helped Remus remove his clothing. It was frantic, this need inside Remus to feel Severus’ mouth on him. Severus broke the kiss to remove Remus’ shirt while Remus tried to bury his nose in Severus’ neck. A whiff of a new scent, peppermint and chocolate, made Moony, so close to the surface with the full moon only three days away, surge up a growl from Remus’ depths.

Severus shivered at the sound, relishing the idea that he was causing the tightly controlled werewolf to lose his mind. With a negligent shove, he toppled Remus to the floor and began trailing nips, kisses and nibbles down Remus’ neck, to his chest and then tantalizingly lower. Soon Severus was driving the werewolf wild, causing torment and pleasure with his mouth on Remus’ throbbing member.

Remus, for his part, wasn’t thinking much and truth be told, it was probably a good thing. Thinking likely would have caused him serious mental injury and a stay in a bed next to Gilderoy Lockhart.

Remus came with a near scream, surging upwards and almost taking the top of Severus’ head off. Severus staved off the gag reflex and swallowed the salty liquid. He pulled back and watched as the werewolf went totally boneless. He slid seductively over Remus’ prone form to check his neck for a pulse.

It was there, beating wildly. Severus murmured a few nothings in Remus’ ear but got no response. He lifted Remus’ left eyelid only to find he could only see the whites of Remus’ eyes. 

Amused more than disappointed and definitely congratulating himself on his skill and brilliance, Severus pattered to his clothes, grabbed his wand, did a quick ablution spell and dressed. He then levitated Remus to his bedroom, pulled back the covers and settled the werewolf in, nice and neat. He draped the robes at the edge of the bed and paced back into the living room.

Using Remus’ desk, he wrote a brief note and used it to wrap another vial, this one of the scent of peppermint and chocolate, to set on the pillow next to Remus’ head. Then he quietly made his way out of Remus’ quarters and to the Great Hall, where he made Remus’ excuses to the assembled staff, received his own gag gift of a vulture topped woman’s hat from Dumbledore (masquerading as a Christmas Cracker prize), and eating his dinner with a nonchalantness he did not feel.

Remus awoke and rolled over onto the vial of scent and Severus’ note.

> _Remus-_
> 
> _Indeed my prowess should be shouted from the rooftops, but you did it from the floor, which is just as good. I could not rouse you from your lethargy so I went down to dinner. Stay put and I will bring you supper in bed and a few other delights if you behave._
> 
> _Severus_

“Mmm,” Remus hummed as he stretched. He lifted the new vial and gave it an experimental sniff. It was then he noted the scent’s name on the label.

**All a Wolf Wants to Sniff For Christmas**


End file.
